Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Slovenia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Move to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
A Flock of Seagulls,
T.S.O.L.,
The Detroit Cobras,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
T. Rex,
Bad Manners,
Excepter,
Harpers Bizarre,
H. Thieme,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Davy DMX,
Gang Gang Dance,
Loose Ends,
Goldenarms,
Sun City Girls,
Peter and Kerry,
Black Flag,
Ponytail,
Negative Approach,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Alison Limerick,
Bootsy Collins,
Deakin,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
MDC,
The Smoke,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Fugs,
Wire,
Amon Düül II,
Bang On A Can,
Audionom,
Cal Tjader,
The Black Dice,
Hasil Adkins,
Hot Snakes,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Adolescents,
Wings,
Roy Ayers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Television,
Brick,
Big Daddy Kane,
Man Parrish,
Johnny Clarke,
The Doobie Brothers,
Prince Buster,
PIL,
David Bowie,
The Standells,
Blake Baxter,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dave Gahan,
Arab on Radar,
Glenn Branca,
Pantytec,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Five Americans,
Jawbox,
It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.